


Illumination

by PanBoleyn



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, M/M, Multi, pre-Ariadne/Arthur/Eames
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-12
Updated: 2018-08-12
Packaged: 2019-06-26 05:25:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15656673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PanBoleyn/pseuds/PanBoleyn
Summary: Cobb jumped that night with Mal, leaving Ariadne as sole guardian of the children. But Social Services declares her an unfit guardian, and Ariadne is out of options. Until a mark from a failed job makes her an offer she can't refuse. Do the impossible and he gives her the children. But to do it, she's going to need to contact someone who left her long ago.





	1. Part One

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted here in 2011: https://fae-boleyn.livejournal.com/26622.html

_It was the wicked and wild wind_  
_Blew down the doors to let me in_  
_Shattered windows and the sound of drums_  
_People couldn't believe what I'd become_          -  Viva La Vida, Coldplay

 

Ariadne stands there as the coffins are lowered into the ground – it's not a Catholic cemetery like Mal would have wanted because she and Dom killed themselves – James clinging to her left hand and Philippa gripping her right. Her throat burns from the tears she's been swallowing, her jaw aches from clenching her teeth together so she doesn't scream.

 

How could they do this? How could they both leave their children, leave her, like this? Mal she can understand, she knows Mal was broken, convinced that this world was just another dream, but Dom... He knew that jumping would be suicide, that there would be no waking up this time. So why would he do it?

 

A voice from her memory rises unbidden into her thoughts.  _“It's each other they need, Ari. Not us, not anyone, except each other. In the end, that's all that really matters to them, is that they're together.”_

 

She shakes her head to clear it, to chase away that voice she used to love, in the days when three was four. Now three has become one, and she's more lost than ever. It doesn't help when she looks up and sees him, in his black three-piece suit, fedora covering the black hair she knows is slicked back, his dark eyes resting on her for one moment before he turns and walks away. He walks to the parking lot, to a man she doesn't know who is wearing a tweed jacket and leaning against a car.

 

Part of her wants to chase after him, to keep him with her so she has someone and she's not alone, not lost in despair and confusion, in the horrible question of  _What now?_  but she can't, because he left them long ago and she has her pride. He always knew he could come back, she's sure he knows it still. And yet there he is, walking away again.

 

~ ~ ~

 

_**In the beginning, because all stories have a beginning, there are two, not three or four or one. It isn't Dom and Mal, it's Ariadne and Arthur, two college students sharing a dorm room. How that happens is complicated, some kind of computer mix-up that leaves a freshman girl and a sophomore boy as roommates.** _

 

_**They get used to it fairly quickly, agreements to change clothing in the bathroom and never in the bedroom making life that much easier. Arthur teaches Ariadne how to make good coffee, and she teaches him how to cook. And they teach each other how to dance, playing music on a laptop – sometimes Arthur's silver one and sometimes Ariadne's purple one. The dances start ending in kisses, and then they don't need to dance to kiss, but they never take it further. It's not that they don't want it, it's that they just aren't quite... ready for it yet. It's like they need some kind of final push.** _

 

_**And then there's Professor Miles' class, and then there are Mal and Dom, the professor's daughter and her husband. And that thing, the push they were waiting for, is them. It's this couple who, after dinner at Miles' house, take them into their first lucid dream, the four of them walking along the streets of Venice.** _

 

_**That night is the night Ariadne and Arthur become lovers, still riding the high from impossibilities, from how Arthur made things materialize from nowhere and Ariadne twisted the canals of Venice into a labyrinth maze. And it's for comfort too, to remind themselves that they're alive, even after dying for the first time at the hands of projections.** _

 

_**Yet even violent death isn't enough to put them off dreaming for long.** _

 

~ ~ ~

 

The Cobbs' will says that Ariadne is to be James and Philippa's guardian, but the State of California disagrees. Since their grandparents are dead – Dom's parents died years ago, as did Mal's mother, but Miles only died last year of a heart attack – there is no one suitable in the eyes of Social Services, and they take the children away. They take them away and throw them in foster care, and Ariadne is completely alone now.

 

She would give up, except she refuses to let those children go. The problem is, she has no way to fight. As far as the courts know, she's an unemployed twenty-something, because she can't very well point out that she's more than capable of supporting herself and two children. Not when her job is illegal.

 

Nash is an extractor she's worked with only once before, when Philippa was a newborn and neither Cobb nor Mal wanted to work for a bit. She and Arthur had been rebellious and daring – or so they felt – by working with someone else. Except Nash is a slimy bastard. Still, he's a decent architect, and the job has a pretty good payoff. Cobol Engineering wants expansion plans from Kiyoshi Saito, the head of Proclus Global. Should be simple, and maybe she can get enough cash to bribe someone in Social Services.

 

It all goes to hell. Twice. The second time is her fault, in the end, because she messed up the carpet. How was she supposed to know that Nash would slam Saito's face into the ground and the man would recognize that the smell of the carpeting in 'his apartment' was off? She spent the extra time to find out what sort of fiber was used in the rug – wool, not polyester – but the smell? She's not even sure she could have done anything about that. Who the hell knows that kind of thing anyway, even about their own carpets? It's disturbing as hell, Ariadne thinks. Not to mention, Cobol now wants her head, so she can't even justify getting the kids back to herself. What if she gets them killed?

 

That's when Saito arrives in the getaway helicopter, bearing Nash, who tried to sell her out. Saito leaves Nash to Cobol's tender mercies when Ariadne refuses to shoot him, and then stares at her from across the small space in the copter and makes her an offer. She gives him inception, he helps her get James and Philippa back. Really, it's no choice at all.

 

~ ~ ~

 

_**They finish college, because the Cobbs insist on it, but neither Arthur nor Ariadne has any interest in it anymore. All they want to do is dream, to dream with Dom and Mal. They don't talk about it, because they know; they love each other, but they love Dom and Mal too. It's OK, it's not cheating if you don't do anything, even if you want to – especially not when both of you want to do the same thing.** _

 

_**Or so they tell themselves. But the strain begins to show, because the two of them isn't enough anymore, not for either of them, and it's driving them mad. Ariadne's the one who comes up with a sort of solution, who dreams up projections of Dom and Mal that do want them, that are happy to be with them both. And things even out.** _

 

_**It goes like this until they've graduated and are working with the Cobbs full-time. It's illegal, what they do, breaking into people's minds to sell the information to their business or political enemies. Sometimes the job does good things, like when they're hired by private detectives to help find out the locations of missing people, or when those desperate enough and rich enough to use lucid dreaming as a drastic kind of therapy are healthier people afterwards, but it's still illegal. But it's not like Arthur or Ariadne has anyone else to answer to – they're both alone in the world, scholarship students who got out of shitty situations to make something of themselves. Who cares if they're criminals? They're happy.** _

 

_**But some of that happiness is forged on illusion, and one day it comes crashing in on them, because Mal finds them in the dream. It's not even sex, this one, just cuddling, just quiet domestic bliss. It's stupid, but these dreams are as wonderful as the sex ones, in their way. But the look on the real Mal's face... Ariadne and Arthur don't know what to do, and neither of them want to wake up, but they have no choice.** _

 

_**And it turns out that Dom and Mal knew all along. At least that Arthur and Ariadne were in love with them. “We'll go, if you want,” Arthur says, looking at his shoes. Ariadne holds her breath, silently begging Dom and Mal not to get rid of them.** _

 

_**“You don't have to,” Dom says, but it's Mal who takes it further.** _

 

_**“We can give you what you want, mon chere, ma petite.” She calls Arthur mon chere and Ariadne ma petite sometimes; Dom is mon amour. The younger pair look at the older pair in shock, but Mal is smiling, and Dom doesn't seem to have a problem with this suggestion.** _

 

_**And it's better than the dreams, because really, they can't compare with reality.** _

 

~ ~ ~

 

There's one major downside to this new job. Well, two. The first is that Saito insists on coming along, which is a terrible idea but Ariadne can't talk him out of it. The second is that she isn't allowed to pick their extractor. At least now she knows who trained Saito's subconscious. His name is Robert Fischer; he's the older son of Maurice Fischer, head of the Fischer-Morrow energy conglomerate. He's also been disowned in favor of his younger brother Jeremy and has major daddy issues.

 

It doesn't help that the mark is said younger brother. Maurice Fischer is dying, and Jeremy is set to take over the company. Saito doesn't want his corporation to founder under the strain of trying to compete with Fischer-Morrow. Fischer... She's not sure if he's looking for vengeance or if he honestly wants to get his brother out of their father's shadow. And to be honest, she doesn't give a damn. All that matters is whether or not they can plant the idea to split up his father's company in Jeremy Fischer's mind, so that's all she cares about. And she has to hand it to Fischer, he's pretty good. He says caustically that it's a good thing he got disowned, as he found his calling because of it, and while he's being a smart-ass, she thinks he might actually have a point there.

 

Ariadne tells herself the three of them can do this alone. After all, Fischer can gain his brother's trust in the dream, start feeding him what they need him to believe. Surely he'd listen to his own brother, so no need for a forger. And as for a point man, she's sure Saito's people can give her whatever information Fischer doesn't already have. Chemists don't have to be on-site all the time.

 

And really, she knows she's kidding herself, but it takes Fischer saying flat-out, “We need a point man and a forger, because at this point the only one Jeremy will trust is Uncle Peter, and Yoshi's people can't do the research without setting off alarm bells.”

 

Ariadne is distracted for a moment by the use of a nickname for Saito, though she already suspected that Saito and Fischer were screwing each other's brains out when not working. But she has to concede the point, gritting her teeth. She knows who she needs for point, and he comes with a very talented forger these days, if rumor is to be believed.

 

So sixteen hours after that conversation, she's on a flight to Mombasa, Kenya.

 

~ ~ ~

 

_**Everything's wonderful after that, or at least Ariadne thinks so. Arthur's not so sure. It's after James is born that he finally confronts Mal about it. “You don't really love us, do you?”** _

 

_**“Arthur, I don't know what you mean,” Mal says, but she's toying with her hair like she only does when she's lying, or at the very least evading the truth.** _

 

_**“Mal, please, be honest with me. You two care about Ari and me, but you'd be fine without us. You and Dom, though... You can't live without each other.”** _

 

_**Mal doesn't answer, just looks at him sadly, and Arthur nods, throat tight. He packs his bags that night, refusing to stay in a relationship where all parties involved are not on equal footing. Ariadne begs him not to go, and he tells her what he's come to realize. “It's each other they need, Ari. Not us, not anyone, except each other. In the end, that's all that really matters to them, is that they're together.”** _

 

_**“So who cares? They still want us, Arthur, it's still the best we're going to have!”** _

 

_**“Maybe I want more than the best we can get from them,” he says.** _

 

_**“But what about me?”** _

 

_**“You can come with me if you want.” He hopes she will, but at her crestfallen look he smiles sadly. “I didn't think so.” He kisses her on the cheek and tucks an errant lock of hair behind her ear, then walks away. He has no plan, no idea where he's going, just that he needs to get away from here. And that's what he does. He's got enough of a name for himself in the dreaming underworld that he has no trouble finding jobs. He never works with the same people twice, preferring to move on quickly rather than get attached again. He's just not ready to risk heartbreak a second time so soon after the first.** _

 

_**And then he meets Eames.** _

 

~ ~ ~

 

Mombasa is hot, and Ariadne hates it. Although if she's honest with herself, it's entirely possible that what she really hates is why she's come. Or rather, who she's come to see. She finds Arthur and the bar of a seedy casino, not the place she'd expect him to favor. But he's just walked away from a man in a god-awful pea green jacket and salmon-colored shirt, and is now heading back with two glasses. She moves up to Arthur's side easily. “Arthur.”

 

He bobbles the glasses but doesn't drop them, turning just a little quicker than is wise to face her. “Ariadne, what are you doing here? The kids...”

 

“Are gone, not that you give a damn. Look, I've got a job offer for you and your new business partner.”

 

“Eames is not my business partner, he's my lover,” Arthur says evenly.

 

“Whatever, he's a forger, right? I have a job offer for the two of you, so why don't you introduce me and we can get this show on the road.”

 

Arthur looks at her, and there's a flash of the old Arthur in this man wearing a light blue buttondown and khakis, but it's not enough. It's not enough, because he still left and it doesn't matter anymore.

 

Arthur introduces her to Eames and slate gray eyes narrow as they study her, and Ariadne suspects that Eames doesn't like her any more than she likes him. Not that it matters. She gives him a long once-over, noting despite herself that he's attractive, but still resenting his very presence. From the look he's giving her she suspects his thoughts are more or less along the same vein.

 

“So you're Ariadne. I thought you'd be taller, really.” They've left the casino where Eames had set up shop by this time, and Ariadne is sitting across from them both on the balcony of a rundown coffee shop.   
 

Arthur shakes his head. “What's the job, Ariadne? And what happened to James and Philippa?”

 

Ariadne glares at him. “Apparently I'm not a fit guardian by the standards of California. And the job is inception.”

 

“That's impossible.” Arthur doesn't skip a beat.

 

“It's perfectly possible, just bloody difficult,” Eames corrects.

 

“Then why didn't it work last time, Eames?” Arthur asks, exasperated.

 

“The two of you have done this before?” Ariadne wants to know.

 

“We tried,” Arthur says. “It didn't work.”

 

“We got the idea in place, but it didn't take,” Eames clarifies.

 

“You didn't go deep enough?” Ariadne asks. Arthur and Eames glance at each other before the latter answers.

 

“No, it's not just about depth. You need the simplest version of the idea so it'll grow naturally in the subject's mind. It's a very subtle art.”

 

“What's the idea you need to plant?” Arthur wants to know.

 

“To get the heir to an international corporation to split up his father's empire. Oh, and our extractor is said heir's disowned big brother.”

 

Eames looks at her, and she can see the gears turning in his mind.“Well, right there you've got various political motivations, anti-monopolistic sentiment and so forth. But all that stuff, it's at the mercy of your subject's prejudices – you have to go back to the absolute basic.”

 

“Which is?”Ariadne leans forward, eyes narrowed. She might not like this guy, but Arthur works with him as well as fucks him, so he must be good, and he certainly sounds like he knows what he's doing.

 

“The relationship with the father,” Eames says flatly.

 

“What about the brother?” Arthur says, almost absently. Eames flashes him a grin, nodding.

 

“Well yes, that too. Under the circumstances, that should be cleared first. Just how  _do_  the poor little rich boys get on?”

 

“They were close as children but haven't spoken since Robert was disowned,” Ariadne says. “In fact, that's why we need a forger; I thought Robert could get his brother to lower his guard, but he said it wouldn't work.”

 

“And what about me?” Arthur asks.

 

“You're a package deal, aren't you?” Ariadne shoots back, bitterness lacing her words. “And my employer can give me all kinds of resources, but not someone with the same skill for finding out what we need that you have.”

 

“Do you have a chemist?” Eames cuts in, clearly not happy with the direction the conversation is starting to go in. Ariadne supposes this is awkward for them all, in one way or another.

 

“No, not yet. Why?”

 

“Eames has a friend here,” Arthur explains. “Yusuf. He blends his own variants of the compounds.”

 

Ariadne nods. “Can you guys take me there?”

 

“Sure,” Eames says. “As soon as you've lost your tail.”

 

Ariadne stiffens, and Arthur says, “By the bar, blue tie. Came in a minute or two after us.”

 

“It's probably Cobol Engineering. They're not happy with me right now,” Ariadne says.

 

“Yeah, they pretty much own Mombasa. And we heard; there's a price on your head,” Arthur says tightly, and she can see the concern in his eyes.

 

“Run interference for me? Meet back here in half an hour?”

 

“Last place they'd look,” Arthur nods.

 

“Say,” Ariadne asks, “that price on my head? Was it dead or alive?” She's asking Arthur, but it's Eames who answers.

 

“Can't remember,” the Brit says carelessly, before getting up. “I'm about to give you your distraction, you'd better go.”

 

Ariadne dimly hears Eames calling something in the direction of the Cobol tail before she jumps off the balcony to the street below. She's not sure what Arthur's doing.

 

~ ~ ~

 

_**Arthur meets Eames on a job in St. Petersburg. Eames is infuriating and he drives Arthur up the wall within five minutes of their first meeting. But at the same time, Arthur also finds himself enjoying the Brit's company, and he doesn't quite fail to notice that the other man is very attractive. When the job goes horrifically wrong, they end up on the run together with the rest of their team dead.** _

 

_**“Didn't you used to run with the famous Cobbs? I heard something about them having a pet point man and architect,” Eames says conversationally as they drive, the road deserted because it's fucking three AM. Arthur clenches his jaw.** _

 

_**“Clearly I'm not their 'pet point man' or I wouldn't have left,” Arthur says, bitterness and more than a little pain lacing his words. He forgets that Eames is a forger, which means he is even more skilled in the art of reading people than regular extractors are (though that's what he was doing on this job, not forging). And Arthur's not being particularly careful about hiding his feelings anyway. What's the fucking point?** _

 

_**“Christ, mate, what did they do to you?” Eames sounds a bit shocked, and Arthur almost feels guilty. It's not Dom and Mal's fault that they love each other more than anyone else. It's just their fault that they are willing to lead people to believe that this might not be the case.** _

 

_**“More like what they didn't do,” he admits, and his voice is so tired, but he can't bring himself to try and change that. He hasn't talked about it, has tried not to think about it, but he can't. He can't forget, can't think of anything but the two of them and Ariadne and he's so damn lonely. He can almost taste it, like something bitter always on his tongue.** _

 

_**He's aware that when they fuck, a few miles later, pulled off to the side of the road, isn't about anything. Sex in such a situation is more about reaffirming that you're still alive, and for Arthur it's also trying to fill that emptiness for a little while. But then what ends up happening is that they get cornered the next day and they fight their way out. Once they're free, Eames slants him a look from slate gray eyes, and something catches in Arthur's chest.** _

 

_**“I've been thinking about finding myself a partner,” Eames says. “Would you be interested in that?”** _

 

_**Arthur is, and while he's not expecting the sex to continue, it does. It's sex, and friendship, until Eames gets shot on a job in Kuwait and Arthur brutally takes down the people responsible. Later, in the hospital, Eames jokes weakly, “I didn't know you cared.”** _

 

_**“Of course I do, you idiot,” Arthur says, trying not to think about just how much. This isn't Dom and Mal, this is different, it feels like... Well. Like Ariadne. That means something, but he doesn't care to contemplate it.** _

 

_**“Well, so do I, darling,” Eames admits, cutting Arthur's thoughts off. They look at each other, and it doesn't need to be said when Arthur leans in and kisses him – lightly, because Eames is still injured and it wouldn't be fair to start something that can't be finished, not for either of them. But they haven't kissed before, a tacit, mutual agreement because somehow, kissing is more intimate than sex, emotionally at least. So when Arthur kisses Eames, when Eames returns that kiss, they both know what it means, what they're saying without words.** _

 

_**But strangely, Arthur still feels like a part of him is missing. He doesn't think it has anything to do with the fascinating couple he'd walked away from, but with the girl still lost in their allure.** _


	2. Part Two

_Suddenly my eyes are open_

_Everything comes into focus_

_We are all illuminated_

_Lights are shining on our faces..._  – Illuminated, Hurts

 

Ariadne loses her tails after some crazy maneuvering through Mombasa's crowded, haphazard streets, including one narrow escape through a gap she probably would have gotten stuck in if she weren't so small. Of course, she still probably would have been caught if Saito and Fischer didn't have excellent timing.

 

“What are you doing here?” she asks as she slides into the car.

 

“Protecting my investment,” Saito tells her calmly. Fischer just raises an eyebrow and smirks at her.

 

“You're complaining?”

 

Ariadne rolls her eyes. “Fuck off,” she says, but she's not really angry. She actually kind of likes Robert. Then she narrows her eyes, a gesture she knows she picked up from Dom, but she can't help herself. “Fischer, if the two of you are here, is anyone working on the job?”

 

“What can be done with only one experienced dreamer available?” Saito points out reasonably. Ariadne can't argue with that.

 

“This is your idea of losing a tail?” Eames says mockingly when she flags him and Arthur down from the car. Ariadne scowls at him.

 

“Different tail,” she snaps. The infuriating Brit shrugs and gets into the front seat with the driver, while Arthur moves to sit by Fischer.  _What, are you afraid to sit next to me?_  Ariadne thinks bitterly, but she says nothing. Maybe he just doesn't want to piss off his boyfriend. And why does she even care?

 

The drive to this chemist's place isn't long, and then the five of them are trooping inside, even Saito. Both Ariadne and Fischer tried to talk him out of it, Arthur and Eames watching from the sidelines. But Saito wouldn't be dissuaded, pointing out to Ariadne that it's his money funding all this and to Fischer that, “Worry does not suit you.” He adds something in Japanese that Ariadne doesn't understand but makes the tips of Fischer's ears turn pink, and he relents.

 

Ariadne rolls her eyes as she gives up herself, but there's something endearing about these two. She can't help but admit that. The two newest members of the team seem to think so as well, but she's not nearly as kindly disposed to them right now, so she glowers at their amused grins and strides past them to go inside. With no other choice left to them, all four men follow her inside.

 

She takes the room in at a glance, the shelves filled with colored glass bottles and the brown-skinned man with curly hair behind a desk on the far side from the door. He takes off his reading glasses and stands up, giving her a curious look before his gaze shifts behind her – to Arthur and Eames, she guesses.

 

“I'm Ariadne Morgan. Yusuf, right?” She hasn't forgotten the name that quickly, but as Ariadne offers her hand for the chemist to shake, she double-checks just to be certain.

 

“Ah, yes, Ms. Morgan. I've heard so much about you. Please, all of you, sit.” He waves his hand to indicate chairs, and all of them sit except for Arthur and Fischer, which isn't surprising for either of them, really.

 

“You work using Somnacin, yes?” Yusuf asks Ariadne.

 

“You're well informed,” she replies, voice even. The chemist stands and walks to one of his shelves, studying his options before taking one of the glass bottles and putting it on the desk in front of her.

 

“That's Somnacin?” Robert asks from his post on the far left, speaking before Ariadne can with with his oddly pale eyes focused on the bottle.

 

“Yusuf's Somnacin,” Yusuf corrects. Ariadne raises an eyebrow.

 

“Is it as good as the real thing?”

 

“Better,” Yusuf tells her, looking vaguely offended. “So. You are seeking a chemist?” At her nod, he continues, “To formulate compounds for a job?”

 

“And to go into the field with us,” Ariadne adds.

 

“Oh, I rarely go into the field, Ms. Morgan.”

 

“Yes, well, we'd need you there to create compounds specific to our needs.”

 

“Which are?”

 

“Great depth.” It's what Dom and Mal were talking about, what Dom confessed to her before that terrible night, how what was wrong with Mal was all his fault. She still can't bear to think about it too hard, but at least she knows inception is possible because of it. And she knows it's something that has to be handled delicately.

 

“A dream within a dream?” Yusuf is asking. “Two levels?”

 

“Three,” Ariadne says, her tone calm. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Eames' eyes narrow and watches Arthur tense. Fischer and Saito already know this, though the former was not happy when she first explained it to them.

 

“Not possible. That many dreams within dreams is too unstable.”

 

“I've seen it done before. You just have to add a sedative.”

 

“A  _powerful_  sedative. How many team members?”

 

“Five.” Again it's Fischer, but she knows why he's breaking in. He's counting Yusuf and not Saito, because he still wants the other man to stay behind.

 

“Six,” Saito counters firmly. “I am going in with you, Robert, this has already been decided.”

 

“There's no room for tourists on a job like this, Mr. Saito,” Eames cuts in. Arthur says nothing, just watches the dynamics between the others. Typical of him, really.

 

“Well, it seems that this time there is.” Saito's voice is firm, and for the moment at least, the debate is over.

 

Yusuf produces a white liquid, claiming that it's something he uses every day. Ariadne asks him what for, and he beckons the group of them toward a metal door. Ariadne catches Arthur and Eames exchanging confused looks – isn't this Yusuf supposed to he Eames' friend? If he doesn't know what Yusuf's going to show them...

 

The chemist hesitates even as he pulls a large metal key from his pocket. “Perhaps... you will not want to see.”

 

“No, let's see what you have to show us,” Ariadne says, though she's suddenly a bit apprehensive about all this.

 

They follow him down a long flight of stairs to a dimly-lit basement. An old man walks up to meet them, but he's not what draws Ariadne's attention. Instead, she's focused on the cots spread over the room, a sleeping person asleep on every single one.

 

“Eighteen, twenty, all connected, bloody hell,” she hears Eames muttering behind her.

 

“Yusuf, what is this?” Arthur asks, frowning at the chemist. She thought he and Eames knew this guy, but clearly they've never seen this. Ariadne doesn't really like that.

 

“They come here every day to share the dream,” Yusuf tells them. He makes a gesture and the bald man reaches over, slapping the nearest sleeper hard. The man doesn't so much as twitch. Ariadne raises her eyebrows, impressed almost in spite of herself.

 

“For how long?” she asks.

 

“Three, four hours, every day.”

 

“And in dream-time?” Fischer asks.

 

Yusuf shrugs. “About forty hours, each and every day.”

 

Saito stares at him. “Why do they do it? Why lose yourself to a dream?”

 

Yusuf doesn't need to prompt anyone before Arthur gives the explanation, voice quiet and making Ariadne wonder just how much he knows about what really happened to Mal and Dom. “After a while, it becomes the only way you can dream.” Except for Arthur, she remembers, who never stopped dreaming for real. But her former lover continues, “And after a while, the dream can become your reality.”

 

“Yes,” said the old man, who had been mostly unnoticed until now. “Which is why they come; to be woken up.”

 

Ariadne suppresses a shiver at that, remembering Mal and Dom, yet again. There is silence for a moment, before Yusuf asks if she wants to try the compound herself. Ariadne agrees quickly, more just to get it over with than because she's at all eager. She's not. She lays back on one of the cots and lets Yusuf administer the sedative, closing her eyes even before the tiredness really hits.

 

_“They stuck me with a guy? Oh great.”_

 

_She and Arthur are laughing, throwing popcorn at the TV._

 

_“Cherie, we do love you too, I promise.”_

 

_“Dom, what's wrong with Mal?”_

 

_“It's my fault, I incepted her so she would agree to wake up. I didn't know this would happen!”_

 

_“Miss Morgan, I'm sorry, but the Cobbs are both dead. They killed themselves last night.”_

 

She sits up, gasping for breath. “Sharp, no?” Yusuf asks. Ariadne nods, swallowing hard as she gets up and stumbles to the bathroom. She sets her brass bishop on the little shelf under the mirror and tips it. When it falls over the way it's supposed to, she sighs with relief.

 

“Ariadne, are you all right?” It's Arthur, and when she looks at him... Maybe it's the dream bringing up old times, but she can tell that the worry, fueled by affection, is real. So she gives him a shaky but equally real smile in response.

 

“I'll be fine.”

 

~ ~ ~

 

_**Ariadne doesn't know what it was that Mal and Dom did that day, at least not for a long time. But she knows they're different when they wake up. There is a weight to Dom's gaze that wasn't there before, a weight that only time can give a person. It's as though he's grown old in the span of hours, old in his mind but still in the body of a man in the prime of life.** _

 

_**And Mal... Oh God, Mal. Even before the morning Ariadne comes down to find Dom taking the knife from Mal's hands, even before the day Ariadne catches her sitting on the edge of a full tub, a hairdryer in her hand, she knows something is wrong. Because Mal has always been steady, has always had a brilliant spark of life dancing in her eyes. And that spark is gone.** _

 

_**Dom tells her, finally, breaking down in a way she senses he could never do at any other time. He tells her about Limbo, about a world where it was just them and the children – just Dom and Mal and the children, and for a moment Ariadne remembers Arthur and wonders if he was right after all. He tells her how Mal locked away the knowledge that Limbo was not real, and how he had to incept her to wake up. He had to make her believe her world isn't real. That would be fine, because it worked, except... She hasn't stopped believing it. Ariadne knows what he's telling her, that he has basically killed Mal by trying to save her.** _

 

_**But they think she's getting better, that between them they've convinced her. So Ariadne stays with Philippa and James while Dom and Mal go out to celebrate their anniversary. And she's woken in the middle of the night by cops knocking on her door and telling her that Dom and Mal committed suicide together.** _

 

_ **“In the end, that's all that really matters to them, is that they're together.”** _

 

_**No. No. No. She doesn't want Arthur to be right. But how can she deny it any longer?** _

 

~ ~ ~

 

“So,” Ariadne says, pacing the room in front of the others, seated in lawn chairs moved into a semi circle. “The mark is Jeremy Fischer, heir to the Fischer-Morrow energy conglomerate. Our job is to get him to decide to break up his father's company. Obviously, this is an idea Jeremy would not come up with on his own, so we have to plant it deep in his subconscious. Since the subconscious is based on emotion, we need this translated into an emotional concept.”

 

“How do you translate a business strategy into an emotion?” Arthur asks.

 

“Well, that's what we need to find out,” Ariadne tells him. “The relationship appears to be a bit tense, based off what the gossip columns have said.

 

“Well, do you play on that? Suggest breaking up his father's company as a screw you to the old man?”

 

“No,” Fischer cuts in. “That would work if you were dealing with me. Jeremy... He just wants Dad to be proud of him, he doesn't even resent him. I could never understand it.”

 

“All right, well, try this. My father accepts that I want to create for myself, not follow in his footsteps.”

 

“That could work,” Fischer concedes.

 

“We need to do better than might,” Ariadne tells him coolly. Eames is about to snap back when Arthur cuts in.

 

“Ariadne has a point. We need a little specificity with something like this.”

 

“I don't think you'd want it to be,” Fischer argues. “I mean, emotions aren't often specific, are they? And honestly, if we add the idea that Father would be proud of Jeremy if he created something for himself, I'd say that would do it.”

 

“All right,” Ariadne says, nodding. She looks at Eames. “So, now we need to figure out how to work this. You just got back from a month in Sydney, what's your impression?”

 

Eames leans back in his chair and surveys her coolly before speaking. Ariadne stares levelly back. “The vultures are circling,” Eames explains, “and the sicker Maurice Browning becomes, the more powerful Peter Browning becomes.”

 

“Great,” Ariadne says. “How does that help us?”

 

“Well, if you would let me finish,” Eames continues, “I would be able to tell you that I've had ample opportunity to observe Browning, adopt his physical presence, study his mannerisms and so on and so forth. So now, in the first level, I can impersonate Browning, and suggest concepts to Jeremy Fischer's conscious mind. Then on the second level, his own projection should feed those concepts back to him.”

 

“So he gives himself the idea,” Arthur cuts in.

 

“Precisely. That's what we did wrong last time, you see. The idea has to seem self-generated, or it won't take.”

 

Arthur tips his chair back and smirks up at the other man. “Eames, I am impressed.”

 

Eames rolls his eyes. “I thought we talked about that condescending nature of yours, Arthur.”

 

“Look, flirt on your own time,” Ariadne snaps, irritated.

 

~ ~ ~

 

_**“So who is she?” Eames asks. Arthur doesn't flinch, though he wants to. He's been waiting for this question, since the day Eames lifted his wallet as a joke, teasing him about the old ticket stubs tucked into one of the pockets, a collection spanning back to middle school, until he'd fallen abruptly quiet.** _

 

_**Arthur had known why, even before looking to see what Eames was holding. A photo from his junior year of college, him and Ariadne. His arm around her shoulders, her leaning into his side, the pair of them grinning like a pair of fools. Eames waits a few weeks to ask, keeping Arthur on edge that entire time.** _

 

_**“Her name is Ariadne. She's... with the Cobbs.” Not Dom and Mal, never Dom and Mal, because even though they broke his heart he still feels something for them. How can he not? Of course, it's not a photo of them he keeps tucked in his wallet, hidden now because he is with Eames, but never really forgotten.** _

 

_**“And you love her.” There's no accusation in Eames' voice; hell, there's no real emotion whatsoever. If Arthur didn't know Eames as well as he did, he would think that all that drove the other man was idle curiosity.** _

 

_**But it's not. And Eames' gaze is sharp, intense, when Arthur meets it. There's no point in lying. “Yes. I do. I probably always will.”** _

 

_**“Ah.” Eames looks away.** _

 

_**“But you haven't asked another, equally important question.” Please, just look at me, God, don't turn away now.** _

 

_**“What's that, then?”** _

 

_**“If she's the only one.”** _

 

_**Eames flicks his gaze back to Arthur, who stands in one smooth motion, walking to Eames' chair and leaning down so their faces are inches apart, bracing himself on the armrests. Eames studies him, and then murmurs, “Well, is she?”** _

 

_**“No.” Arthur breathes the rest against his lover's lips. “I love you too. Just as much, and just as lasting. I won't leave unless that's what you want. Not even for Ariadne.”** _

 

_**“But what if she wants you again?”** _

 

_**Arthur says nothing, just kisses Eames hard. When they break apart, he says, “I can't see it ever coming to that.” Of course that isn't the point, but the truth is Arthur isn't entirely sure what he would do in such a situation and Eames probably guesses, but decides to trust anyway. It's a gift Arthur is stunned by, and sure he doesn't deserve.** _

 

~ ~ ~

 

“So, why don't we sort this out then?”

 

Ariadne ignores Eames and keeps working on her design until a hand snatches the cardboard from her hand. Eames moves with almost invisible speed, which is no surprise – Ariadne took over the point job once Arthur walked out, so while she's not up to her former lover's level she's good enough to know that Eames is a thief in reality as well as in dreams.

 

“Sort what out?” she snaps.

 

“You have a problem with me, love,” he says, the pet name mocking.

 

“I don't know what you're talking about.”

 

“Oh, don't you?”

 

“No.” And Ariadne tells herself she won't change her tune on that, even if she has to repeat herself forever.

 

“Really. Then why are you so snippy with me? Tell me, what did I ever do to you?” He's taunting her, the bastard, she can hear it in his tone, mixing with that  _stupid fucking accent_  even before she whirls around and can see the mocking smirk on his face.

 

She stares at him, silent, unable to even think of what she might say, fury leaving her mind blank and her blood on fire. But then she finds herself speaking, words she never even knew she had. “It's your fault Arthur never came back. You gave him a reason not to, and if not for you, I know he wouldn't have stayed away forever. Is that what you wanted to know, Eames?” To her own horror she no longer sounds angry, just lost. Just alone, as she is. As she will be forever, apparently.

 

Eames isn't mocking anymore, he looks a little angry but mostly he just looks shocked. Then he shakes his head. But he doesn't say anything, just looks over her shoulder. And Ariadne knows before she turns around, she knows that Arthur is standing in the doorway. He's looking at her and he looks so sad, and she's about to run but Eames leaves first, he and Arthur exchanging a look she can't read as they go.

 

“Ariadne...” Arthur reaches out to put a hand on her shoulder and she flinches away.

 

“What? It's true, and you know it. You would have come back, you would have had to. But then you met him, and it just messed everything up!” She drops back down into her chair, hiding her face in her hands. She's not crying, she just doesn't want to see him or anyone else.

 

“My staying away had nothing to do with Eames. Do I love him? Yes. But I left before I met Eames, I chose to stay gone before he was ever in the picture.”

 

“But you would have come back when they died, wouldn't you? If...” She looks up, pleading with him. Because she has to believe that.

 

“I don't know. Probably not.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Tell me something, Ariadne. Why did you choose them?”

 

And Ariadne doesn't have an answer to that.

 

~ ~ ~

 

_**The second level of the dream, and Arthur and Ariadne are sitting on a bench, the projections beginning to watch them – Arthur – suspiciously. “Kiss me,” Ariadne says suddenly, impetuously. Maybe it's because she thinks it might work, maybe it's because Eames just sauntered by in the form of a buxom blonde, or maybe it's just because she wants to. Arthur turns his head to look at her, mouth slightly open in surprise, and she pounces. He's startled, but he kisses her back, familiarity taking over when shock overrides thought.** _

 

_**They pull away and the projections seem a little less interested, though their suspicions aren't fully alleviated. Fischer's plan on this level is tied in with Eames' plan to discredit Browning. Robert will get his brother to trust him again, essentially replacing Browning with himself. But however he's managing that, he's currently making his brother uneasy.** _

 

_**“What the hell was that?” Arthur asks in an undertone.** _

 

_**“A distraction. And it did help.” She hesitates, and then, not looking at him, says something she's been thinking about ever since that night in the warehouse, when he'd left her with a question she couldn't answer. Not then.** _

 

_**“They were the dream, and I was so caught up in it that I didn't realize you and I could be the reality.”** _

 

_**The third level, and she and Eames are waiting for the kick. The Fischers and Saito are there too, but not within earshot. “I shouldn't have blamed you,” she says, her voice tight and her eyes on the wall behind Eames.** _

 

_**The forger gives her a wry smile. “Maybe not. But then, you've had me worried for years, it's only fair.”** _

 

_**She could ask him what he means by that, except that's when he presses the button and the floor crumbles away under their feet.** _

 

~ ~ ~

 

The job goes well, surprisingly so. Of course, they were all careful as hell, since Ariadne and Yusuf warned them ahead of time that death in a sedated, three-level dream means a potentially one-way trip to Limbo rather than an early wake-up call. They even manage, for the most part, to avoid the militarization that Arthur could find no evidence of but Robert had known was there. On the plane when they first arrived, Robert and Jeremy exchanged glances just this side of hostile; once they wake up Jeremy offers his brother a cautious smile and they walk from baggage claim together. Saito doesn't appear to be jealous; he's on the phone, presumably with Social Services. He had better be. Ariadne is so focused on him that she actually doesn't notice Arthur and Eames leave.

 

Saito is as good as his word, and a social worker brings James and Philippa back to the house within a week. They practically squash Ariadne when they leap on her, but she doesn't mind. They haven't seen each other either; some desk jockey got the brilliant idea to separate them in order to help them move on from their old lives, or some other ridiculous theory. And so the three of them cling together, all that's left of a family.

 

Ariadne has almost everything she wanted, but there's one piece missing. She pretends it's not, but deep down she knows she's lying to herself. Even so, she doesn't expect to answer the doorbell and see Arthur and Eames standing there. They don't have bags with them, but somehow she knows. They may not be staying  _here_ , but... They're still going to be around.

 

She lets them in, and Philippa recognizes Arthur immediately. She remembers that he left, but to Philippa, who has lost too many people, having one of them come back is wonderful enough that she doesn't care anymore. She launches herself at him and a surprised Arthur is hard-pressed to catch her. James is asleep on the couch, and sound sleeper that he is, he doesn't stir.

 

Eames stands uncomfortably near Ariadne, his eyes on Arthur and Philippa. Ariadne gives him a sharp look. “What are you guys doing here?”

 

Eames shrugs. “He loves you. And I love him. Right now, that's all the answer I have for you, Ariadne. That, and... You and I, we should call a truce, shouldn't we?” The grin he flashes stops her breath, because for just a moment she sees what Arthur does, and it makes a lot more sense. Unknown to her is that a moment later, when a sleepy James tugs at her pant leg to demand who the newcomers are and she gets on her knees to put herself on the same level with the little boy, Eames has the same moment of understanding.

 

All Ariadne knows right now is that it's a start, of a new reality that will probably require a lot more work than her dreams ever did, but will be worth it in the end.


End file.
